


Double or Nothing

by HawthorneWhisperer



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: F/M, Ficlet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-22
Updated: 2015-08-22
Packaged: 2018-04-16 15:35:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,395
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4630602
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HawthorneWhisperer/pseuds/HawthorneWhisperer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff"><p>A little too long for a drabble, a little too short for a ficlet. The prompts were: “How much for last night?” requested by hysterical-for-joshifer, and “Congratulations, you actually convinced me to sleep with you,” requested by rumaan, marycontrary82, and two anons.</p></blockquote>





	Double or Nothing

The bet was officially out of control.

 

Clarke should have known better than to challenge Bellamy Blake to anything.  There was no way he would ever back down, especially when it came to her.  They were both horribly over-competitive, so she really shouldn’t have bet him $20 he couldn’t find a woman in the bar willing to go home with him before she did.

Bellamy won (he went home with a leggy brunette named Echo who hung around with them for weeks after.  Clarke liked her.  She really did.  Except she didn’t, for reasons that had nothing to do with Echo as a person and everything to do with the way Bellamy looked at her) but the next morning, he texted her.

 

_Bellamy Blake_

_11:32am_

_Losing must suck, huh?_

_Bellamy Blake_

_11:32am_

_I wouldn’t know, but I assume it does._

_Bellamy Blake_

_11:32am_

_But if you think you can beat me in the breast cancer 5k coming up, I’ll go double or nothing with you._

 

Clarke just narrowly edged him out at the race, finishing at 27:49 while Bellamy barrelled into the finish line at 28:07.  He slung a sweaty arm over her shoulder and sighed dramatically.  “You cheated.  You had Raven fumble the water hand off on purpose.”

Clarke rolled her eyes at him.  “And you already knew Echo from a work thing.  All’s fair in love and war.  But if you’re going to be such a baby about it, I bet you can’t get Miller to admit he has a huge fucking crush on Monty. Double or nothing.”

“Not fair.  You have to have an objective too.”  Bellamy gulped down a cup of water and handed two flimsy paper cups of gatorade to Clarke.  

“Fine.”  She chugged her gatorade and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand.  “You have to get Miller to admit his crush before I get Monty to admit his.”

“Deadline?”

“Two weeks from today.”

Bellamy elbowed her and grinned.  “That $80 is going to make a really nice date night for me and Echo.”

 

That was two months ago, and the bet was now up to $640.  It was an insane amount of money, but they couldn’t stop.  Neither of them would ever give in, because defeat was just not in their nature.  Even Echo had commented on their competitiveness before things between her and Bellamy fizzled out.  Bellamy looked at Clarke thoughtfully over his glass of whiskey, having shot down her last three challenges.  ( _We’re too damn old for streaking.  What are you, nineteen?  And besides, that’s lame.  We’ve gotta up the stakes._ )  A grin spread across his face.  “I bet you can’t seduce me.”

Clarke choked on her vodka tonic.  “Excuse me?”

“Do your worst.  Convince me to sleep with you.  You’re always bragging about your ability to get random women to sleep with you, so let’s see if it works on me.”

“Parameters?”

“You have one month to convince me of your considerable charms.”  He winked at her and she scoffed loudly.  “I have to resist.  Winner takes all.”

Clarke was good at lots of things, but sex?  She was  _great_  at sex.  And great at finding people to have sex with her.  And Bellamy, while stubborn as all hell, had a certain weakness where members of the female sex were concerned.

“Deal.”  They shook on it and returned to their drinks as the rest of their friends drifted back from the dartboard.  (There was a moratorium on Clarke and Bellamy playing any sort of competitive game that involved other people.  Raven had made that rule two years ago and it was strictly enforced.)

Clarke didn’t make her move that night.  Or the next time she saw him, or the time after that.  She let him be lulled into a false sense of security, because catching him with his guard down was key.  The days slipped past, then a week, then two.  She teased him a little–putting her hand on his arm when she was telling a story, brushing against him if she had to move past him.  His eyes darkened every time she did it, and she wondered if it really was just a game they were playing.

Three weeks had passed, and Bellamy was lounging on her couch, a table full of empty beer bottles in front of him.  The rest of their friends had slowly trickled out until it was just the two of them.  “I’ll help you clean up in a minute,” he yelled to her.  Clarke stuffed the pizza box into her recycling bin, pulled her v-neck shirt down a little, and squared her shoulders.   _Now or never._

She walked back to the living room and rounded the couch, stealing the remote from Bellamy and clicking off the TV.  “I was watching that,” he grumbled.

“You can watch Nightline later, gramps.”  She stepped between him and the tv and climbed onto the couch, straddling him.  She stayed up on her knees and hovered above him.  “I thought we could do something else instead.”

His hands came to her hips and steadied her.  “And what did you have in mind?”

Clarke ran her hands up his biceps to his shoulders and tipped his chin up with her finger.  “I have some ideas.”  

“I bet you do.”  His voice was lower than she’d ever heard it and she suppressed a shiver.  This was definitely not about the bet or the money any more, but she also didn’t want it to end.  Bellamy’s fingers dug into the flesh of her hips and she leaned forward.  He licked his lips.

“Just tell me if you want me to stop,” she whispered and closed the distance between them.

The second their lips met, Clarke didn’t care if she won or lost the bet.  All she cared about was that he keep kissing her like that, his hands framing her face and his tongue slipping into her mouth.  She mewled in disappointment when he broke the kiss, but once she realized he’d only done so to press a burning trail of kisses down her neck and to the valley between her breasts, her frustration melted away.

“Congratulations,” he rasped against the smooth skin just above her breasts.  “You finally convinced me to have sex with you.”

Bellamy moved forward to get his legs under him and lifted her into his arms.  “It wasn’t very hard,” she giggled, lightly scraping her teeth along the shell of his ear.

“I thought you’d never figure it out,” Bellamy chuckled, but then they were in her bedroom and talking no longer seemed important.

The next morning, Clarke was curled in a kitchen chair, her legs drawn up under Bellamy’s shirt (ignoring his complaints that she would stretch it out), and sipping her coffee when he came back from digging through his jacket’s pocket.

He slapped his checkbook down on her kitchen table with a mock-scowl on his face.  “So how much for last night?”

Clarke’s eyes widened.  “You have a  _checkbook_?  That you  _carry around with you_?  What are you, eighty?”

“No, I’m a responsible thirty year old adult.  Unlike you,” he retorted.  “Six-forty, right?”

“Bellamy, come on.  That was a joke.  We were never going to pay each other that money.”

“Speak for yourself, princess.  I’ve been carrying this thing around for three goddamn weeks for just this occasion.”  He grabbed a pen from the mess on her counter and flipped it open to a new check, but Clarke put her hand over it before he could write.

“I’ll make you a deal,” she offered.

Bellamy gave her that familiar grin.  “I’m listening.”

“Let’s say you don’t owe me money.  But you can make it up to me in other ways.  Like taking me on an actual date.”

He leaned over and gave her a gentle kiss.  “How about we go double or nothing?  If you admit to our friends that you’ve had a crush on me for ages, I’ll take you on  _two_  actual dates.”

Clarke slapped his chest and sat back, laughing.  “Please.  You’re the one with the crush on me.  Still…”  She stuck her hand out for him to shake, but instead he just grabbed it and kissed her knuckles.  “Double or nothing?” she asked.

He kissed her again, longer and slower this time.  “Double or nothing,” he confirmed.

**Author's Note:**

> A little too long for a drabble, a little too short for a ficlet. The prompts were: “How much for last night?” requested by hysterical-for-joshifer, and “Congratulations, you actually convinced me to sleep with you,” requested by rumaan, marycontrary82, and two anons.


End file.
